


tim's got a crush :]

by bagelauthor



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Bottom Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Fluff and Smut, Hand Kink, M/M, Martim Week 2021 (The Magnus Archives), Martim week: size kink/difference, Public Sex, Set in Season 1, Size Kink, Top Martin Blackwood, also nonbinary jon bcuz i said so, martim week: pub, martin is huge and he also works out so hes like HUGE huge, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:28:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagelauthor/pseuds/bagelauthor
Summary: Over time, though, his jealousy began to melt into something warmer, something it took Tim a while to put his finger on. When he sat in the breakroom, sipping his tea, he didn’t look up at Martin with anger. Instead, he looked up at him in awe, admiring his muscles and his shoulders, the way the muscles flexed when he reached for the top shelf; the way his sweater was just a bit too small in some places, clinging to him, showing off the curve of his upper back, his soft stomach. Sometimes, when it got a bit too stuffy in the Archives, Martin would roll up the sleeves of his shirt, perfectly shining a spotlight on his soft, freckled arms, covered in blonde hair. Tim looked at him differently now - he was still a bit jealous, but less than before, and now that envy was overpowered by something… different. Something Tim didn’t quite know the name of yet.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	1. size kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr

**Author's Note:**

> MARTIM WEEK DAY 2 BABY
> 
> i know this ended kinda abrupt but one of the prompts for day 3 is pub so imma give this a second chapter with that as the prompt for their date!!!!
> 
> also size kink go brrrrrrrrr.... huge martin rights and also top martin rights

Martin was… bigger than Tim.

Tim had always hated how short he was - only 5’8, an inch shorter than the average men’s height in the UK. He’d love to be 6 foot, yes, but he’d give anything for just one more inch - to just be average instead of less than average. He wasn’t the shortest man he’d ever met, but he was definitely on the shorter side. He worked out in his free time, but he was still smaller than he wanted to be - he guessed his body just wasn’t cut out to be ripped, one of those bodies with muscle structures that never get as big as the person might want. He was skinny-ish, with slightly toned but still soft muscles that ladies seemed to love; and he had small shoulders, and a height that others were never envious of. Tim always wished he was just a little bit bigger.

Suddenly, though, when he met Martin, he didn’t hate being small anymore. Martin practically towered over him, measuring up at 6’5, a height that Tim would kill for. He always seemed to be staring at Martin, seething with envy over how easily he could reach for the top shelf in the breakroom. How carefully he cradled the teapot in his large hands, how both soft and strong he was at the same time. His broad shoulders and god, his height… Tim was jealous. He wished he looked like that.

Over time, though, his jealousy began to melt into something warmer, something it took Tim a while to put his finger on. When he sat in the breakroom, sipping his tea, he didn’t look up at Martin with anger. Instead, he looked up at him in awe, admiring his muscles and his shoulders, the way the muscles flexed when he reached for the top shelf; the way his sweater was just a bit too small in some places, clinging to him, showing off the curve of his upper back, his soft stomach. Sometimes, when it got a bit too stuffy in the Archives, Martin would roll up the sleeves of his shirt, perfectly shining a spotlight on his soft, freckled arms, covered in blonde hair. Tim looked at him differently now - he was still a bit jealous, but less than before, and now that envy was overpowered by something… different. Something Tim didn’t quite know the name of yet.

One warm summer day in the Archives, Martin had arrived to work wearing a colorful tank top, covered by a mostly-open button down, covered in a pattern of stars, not unlike something Tim would wear. For the first time, Tim thought Martin looked… handsome. Really handsome, actually. Well, he had always thought Martin was a good looking guy, but now there was this different air to it. He looked perfect, with the small tufts of hair on his chest, with his sleeves cuffed to show his big, strong arms. He was more muscular than Tim would have guessed - god, did Martin work out? He must have, with arms, like those. The feelings were definitely a little more than platonic, and for the first time since their meeting, Tim thought it might be nice to kiss Martin Blackwood. It was a lovely feeling, having a new crush, and Tim floated through his day with a cloud of hearts over his head.

Later that day, while passing him in the hallway, Tim caught a glimpse of Martin reaching up to the highest shelf of a filing cabinet to grab a statement. ‘He doesn’t even have to get on his tippy-toes,’ Tim thought to himself, smiling at Martin in secret. As he neared him, Martin turned to Tim, giving him a friendly smile, and a vision flashed before Tim’s eyes, with Martin pinning Tim up against the filing cabinet, so much taller than him, so much stronger than him, holding his arms in place, trapping him, looking down at him and chuckling at his prey-

“Tim? You alright?”

Tim suddenly snapped back to reality. He was standing five feet away from Martin, they were both fully clothed, and Martin was probably noticing the sudden blush on his face. Idiot.

“Yeah,” Tim exclaimed, coming down from his high. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just zoned out for a second there.” He smiled awkwardly, and Martin replied with a sincere one, just a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Ah, alright. I was just asking if you knew where statement number…”

And like that, the fantasy was gone. Martin, however, still looked stunning, with his exposed skin and the nine goddamn inches he had on Tim. Funny, how he hated Martin’s height, and now all of a sudden, it was the only thing he wanted to think about.

Tim helped Martin find the statement he was looking for. No one pushed anyone up against the filing cabinet, but Tim couldn’t seem to shake himself of the hope that Martin would read his mind and do it anyway.

A couple days later, Martin came into work wearing another tank top and button down combo, this time, with the sleeves rolled up just a little bit higher than before. Tim couldn’t stop himself from staring at Martin’s arms, the way his hands moved as he flipped through papers or fidgeted with his pen. He wondered if he was strong enough to pick Tim up, to place him down wherever Martin thought he’d look the prettiest. Unlikely, probably - Tim wasn’t that skinny. But still, it was a very nice thought, and it made him re-cross his legs under his desk.

‘Fuck it,’ Tim thought. He picked out his stack of yellow post-it notes from his desk, along with his favorite pen, and he started writing a letter for Martin.

‘Drinks tonight? - Tim”

No, that looked too friendly. Martin would just think Tim wanted to have a nice dinner out with him. That didn’t sound like a bad idea, but… okay, did he really want to go through with this? Yeah. Fuck it, yeah.

‘Drinks tonight? ;) - Tim”

Now that looked better. That got his point across much better than before. He really hoped Martin didn’t find him pervy for this, and he worried that his luck would be bad as he picked up the note and stood up, and he worried that Martin would find him a creep and never speak to him again as he walked over to Martin’s desk and placed the note down there.

He walked over to the bathroom - he didn’t actually have to go, he just wanted an excuse as to why he walked past Martin’s desk. Normally, he wouldn’t care if anyone saw him leave a suggestive note on someone’s desk. Usually, he was such a shameless flirt, but now, for some reason, it was different. Embarrassed, he pushed open the bathroom door, and his stomach dropped when he saw Martin washing his hands at the sink.

Martin looked over to him, smiling, completely innocent. “Hey Tim.” He washed the soap off of his hands, and Tim’s eyes wandered to his hands, up his arm, to the sliver of bicep that was showing through this rolled up sleeve-

“You know, I can tell when you’re staring.”

His eyes snapped back onto Martin’s own, as if he wasn’t just drooling over his muscles five seconds ago.

“W-what?”

Martin smiled, not unkindly, as he shook the water off of his hands and waited for the paper towels to dispense. “You’re not very good at hiding it, Tim.” He removed the brown paper towel from the dispenser, wiping it over his hands, a bit slower than he should have. “Not that I mind, you know.” He clumped the paper towel up into a little ball and threw it into the trash can. He took a few steps closer to Tim, crossing his arms in front of him. “I’m just not sure if the others will notice when you make puppy eyes at me in the hallways.”

“Oh,” Tim started, a blush creeping up against his lips, “it’s not that obvious.”

“I think it is,” Martin said, taking another step towards Tim. “But even if that was the case, would you stop looking at me like that? Or would I just be too irresistible for you?” One last step, and he was right up to him, and Tim couldn't help but stare at Martin’s broad shoulders, at his arms, as strong as Adonis, at the hair on his chest and-

Martin placed a hand, soft but firm, on Tim’s chin, and he tilted Tim’s head up to meet his eyes.

Martin really did tower over him, and from this close up, he seemed even taller than Tim had imagined. Tim was trapped, Martin and his shoulders and his muscles holding him in place, keeping him from moving, and just to make matters worse (or maybe better?) Martin moved his free hand onto the space just above Tim’s hip. It hovered there for a moment, before Tim’s eyes glanced down and noticed his hand, and he nodded in consent. Martin smiled, placing his hand there, gripping into Tim gently. Tim let out a soft whimper, and Martin moved Tim’s chin back up slightly, so that their gazes were locked again. Martin leaned down, slowly, until their lips were only inches apart, and Tim leaned up on his tippy toes to break the space between them.

Everything seemed to click into place at that moment. Martin, so big and warm over him, and Tim, tiny, trapped, held into place by Martin’s grip. Martin kissed him back almost instantly, his lips surprisingly soft, and Tim felt safe here. There was a tiny bit of fear in the back of his mind, telling him that he was in danger, that a man bigger than him would hurt him, trapping him here like this, but Martin’s soft hands and gentle sighs washed away any primitive desire he had to run. Yes, Martin was a giant over him, and yes, he was holding him in place, but he felt safe here. Martin was kind and understanding and he knew he was safe here.

He leaned in further to Martin, deepening the kiss. Martin leaned down further, kissing him right back, moving his hand down from his chin to rest on Tim’s chest. Tim sighed, leaning further into Martin, wanting to be under Martin, wanting Martin to tower over him, to kiss him harder, to hold him tighter. His brain was foggy with want, and all he could think was Martin, and his hands and his lips and his height and-

Thank god the bathroom door creaks as loud as it does, because otherwise, the two men wouldn't've heard Jon coming in in time.

The barely had time to fly off of each other before Jon closed the door behind them, noticing Tim washing his hands, his face awfully red for someone just using the restroom, and Martin heading for the door.

“Oops- I’ll just grab that-” Martin said, pulling on the closing door and heading out of the bathroom, back to his desk.

Tim barely had time to hold his breath as Jon walked past him, giving him a strange look before they opened a stall door and closed it behind them. After he knew Jon was out of sight, he released all the air in his lungs, the cool water of the sink feeling good on his heated hands. He splashed some water on his face, looking up at himself in the mirror. God, he was red. He took one last deep breath before he walked out the door, wondering if Martin would look him in the eyes when he walked past his desk.

He kept his head low, walking through the hallway, having a feeling that everyone knew what he just did, knew that he just snogged his coworker in the men’s bathroom.

When he walked past Martin’s desk though, Martin looked him in the eyes. He wasn’t ashamed of him, and he wasn’t disgusted by him. He just smiled at him, and handed him a yellow post-it note.

‘Drinks tonight? ;) - Tim”

“I’ll text you <3 - Marto”

And Tim grinned like an idiot, all the way back to his desk.


	2. the date ;)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Opening the door for me, huh?” Tim asked once they were both settled into their seats. He smiled, showing off a toothy grin. “How chivalrous of you.”
> 
> Martin chuckled in response, a sound that made Tim’s heart flutter. “I try to be gentlemanly.” He leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on the back of his head, a move that showed off his muscular arms. Tim couldn’t help but stare as Martin looked over to him, grinning down at him. “You’re worth all the chivalry in the world.” His smile was equally sincere and deveillish, somehow, and Tim melted at the sight of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MARTIM WEEK DAY 3 POG!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> i found a way to merge the "size kink" prompt of day 2 and the "pub" prompt of day 3 into one fic!! hope y'all like this one ;) also can i write anything Other than porn? ...maybe not
> 
> warning for slightly intoxicated sex, although explicit consent is given <3

Tim nervously stood outside the pub, breathing in the warm summer air. The first two buttons on his shirt were undone, and he had been fiddling with the third for the past five minutes. He was anxious - he didn’t expect Martin to say yes to this date, and he certainly didn’t expect him to... do that wonderful thing he had done in the bathroom earlier today, whatever that was. Martin seemed to be full of surprises today, and Tim wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle whatever he had in store for him later tonight.

Martin wasn’t late, Tim was just early. He had arrived 10 minutes early, for a reason he wasn’t quite sure of. This always just happened when he was nervous on a date - someone he didn’t know too well, or someone he just thought was really hot (and guess which one Martin was?). Waiting for Martin, something started to swell in Tim. Whether it was nerves, or excitement, Tim couldn’t tell, but he really wanted to stick around to find out what it was.

At 6:58 PM, two minutes before they had scheduled to meet, Martin walked down the sidewalk, smiling and walking faster when he saw Tim. He was wearing a short sleeve floral button down, one that showed off his chest and his arm muscles, and Tim wondered if Martin had got some fashion inspiration from him. Either way, he looked stunning. This was it, Tim thought. A date with Martin. Holy shit.

“Hey!” Martin said when he had finally reached Tim, a huge, intoxicating smile on his face.

Tim couldn’t help but smile back - it was contagious. “Hiya. Ready to go in?”

“Ready,” Martin said, smiling, and he opened the door for Tim. Ducking under him to get inside the pub, Tim was reminded of just how big Martin was, and he had to remind himself that he had to act civilized in a public bar or else people would stare.

Tim entered the pub, with Martin following right behind him. They walked past the host’s table, and right to the bar, where they sat down next to each other and ordered their drinks.

“Opening the door for me, huh?” Tim asked once they were both settled into their seats. He smiled, showing off a toothy grin. “How chivalrous of you.”

Martin chuckled in response, a sound that made Tim’s heart flutter. “I try to be gentlemanly.” He leaned back in his chair, placing his hands on the back of his head, a move that showed off his muscular arms. Tim couldn’t help but stare as Martin looked over to him, grinning down at him. “You’re worth all the chivalry in the world.” His smile was equally sincere and deveillish, somehow, and Tim melted at the sight of it.

Before he had time to come down from his high, Tim felt a presence on his knee - Martin’s hand, strong and firm, holding him in place there. Tim felt his face burn up as Martin smiled innocently down at him, a gentle giant, seemingly clueless to how good he was making Tim feel (or did he just not care at how worked up Tim got under his hands? And more importantly, which scenario did Tim find hotter?). Martin moved his hand up Tim’s leg a few inches, and Tim sighed softly.

“Is that alright?” Martin asked, a soft, genuine tone behind the question.

“Mhm,” Tim mumbled out, too flustered to respond with proper words.

“Good,” Martin replied innocently, a clueless smile on his face. Tim burned up at the praise, the juxtaposition of Martin’s forward actions and his soft voice making Tim confused in the best way possible. “And if you ever want me to stop,” Martin said, “you can just move my hand away. Or tell me to move my hand away, and I will.”

“Okay,” Tim replied, smiling back up at Martin. God, he really had to crane his neck up just to look him in the eyes... He swallowed his thoughts down, breaking eye contact and choosing to blush in the direction of the TV, playing some sports game Tim could care less about.

A few moments later, the bartender came back with their drinks, and she placed them down in front of them.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” she asked with a customer service smile.

“I’m alright, thank you,” Martin replied, his hand sliding up Tim’s thigh. He looked over to Tim, a kind smile on his face, but fire in his eyes. “You need anything?”

“Wha- uh, n-no, thank you,” Tim stuttered out, a nervous smile on his face. When the bartender turned her back, his face softened, and he let out the breath he had been holding.

“Cheeky,” he grinned, looking up at Martin with a spreading blush on his face.

“Who, me?” Martin smirked in return, feigning innocence “No, I just like the way you look when I do this.”

He accentuated that last word with a squeeze of Tim’s thigh, which drew out a soft moan from the other. Martin was holding him there, towering over him, so powerful-

“Still okay?” Martin asked, slightly releasing the pressure on Tim’s thigh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tim replied, covering his mouth with his hand, “it’s just, if someone hears me-”

“I think that’d be more fun for us,” Martin said as he drew his thumb softly over the bulge in Tim’s pants - just enough to make his presence known, not enough for Tim to get the friction he really wanted. “Wouldn’t you agree? Let everyone hear how pretty you are for me?”

Tim whimpered, this time thankfully muffled by his hand. “Yeah,” he replied, breathless. “Yeah.” He smiled up at him, his face red, wishing Martin were pinning him up against the wall of the men’s restroom right now.

An hour and a couple drinks later, Tim and Martin were full of something soft and fuzzy in their bellies, and their chairs had slowly scooted closer and closer to each other, until their knees were touching. Martin still had his hand on Tim’s thigh, and he was slowly moving up and down, tracing his fingers in little patterns over Tim’s legs, drawing out his poems and his praises.

Tim was practically on fire, warm from the alcohol and his brain buzzing with soft, incoherent loveliness. All he wanted was Martin, and he kept leaning into him, kept whimpering (almost) silently at his hand, working magic on his skin- and then his eyes shot open as he felt Martin in between his thighs.

“Martin,” Tim said in a harsh whisper, “they’re going to see.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Martin asked, that lovely, sincere tone back on his lips, as he lifted his hand off of Tim.

Tim bucked his hips back into Martin’s palm, wanting him there, needing him to touch him again. “No,” he whispered. “Do… do it again.”

Martin smiled, wasting no time in putting his hand back on Tim, who mewled at the pressure and immediately rocked his hips into Martin’s palm. Tim had always been a horny drunk, sure, but Martin was doing something to him that few others had done to him before. It was his damn height, probably, and his hands and his big arms and his muscles and-

“Hah,” Tim moaned, tailing off into a nervous chuckle. “Martin, I think they’re gonna hear me if you kee- oh, shit - if you keep doing that.”

Martin moved his hand away from Tim, placing it back down on his own thigh. He barely had time to mourn the loss of Martin’s hand before Martin leaned into him. With Martin’s breath hot on his ear, Tim could hear him, clear as day, even over all of the sounds of the pub-

“Why don’t we go back to your place then?”

Holy shit.

“Yeah,” Tim said, looking up at Martin, his eyes filled with want. “I’d like that.”

“So would I,” Martin said, smiling that same, innocent smile.

He paid the tab (yes, Martin insisted on paying in full, even after Tim’s protests), and Tim held onto Martin’s sofy hand all the way back to his house, on the tube, through the streets of London, and all the way into his apartment, where he threw Martin down onto his couch and kissed him as hard as he could.

Martin leaned up and kissed him back, his lips warm against his, his breath heavy. Tim’s brain was muddled with alcohol, with need, and he couldn’t think of anything except Martin, Martin, Martin. He needed more of him, more intoxicating than any drink, so he pulled back for just a moment and then hopped up onto the couch, straddling Martin’s hips. Martin made the loveliest little sound when the contact was made. It was desperate, high in his throat, and Tim wanted to hear it again. He slowly rolled his hips down into Martin’s, and Martin sighed in response, a soft blush creeping over his cheeks.

“Not so cheeky now, are you?” Tim grinned in victory, rolling his hips again, and again, reveling in how vocal Martin was when he was the one on top of him. “Looks like you’re not the only one who can- fuck-”

Martin grabbed Tim’s hips, digging his fingers into the soft skin there, and he pulled Tim down onto him, thrusting his hips into Tim’s. The sudden pressure made Tim woozy, and he wanted more. He ground down harder, with Martin bucking up into him, and he buried his face in Martin’s shoulder, trying to hold back his whimpers. Martin craned his neck to the side and he nipped Tim’s neck, drawing a moan that vibrated all through Martin’s upper half.

Tim pulled back, pulling off his shirt and throwing it aside. He grabbed a handful of Martin's sweater, trying to pull it off.

Martin chuckled. “I like your enthusiasm. I think I’d rather keep this on tonight, though.”

Tim smiled in return. He still hadn’t found the antidote for Martin’s contagious happiness, and he didn’t know if he ever would. He leaned in for another kiss. “Yeah,” he said in between pecks, “that’s alright.” He leaned down all the way and kissed him fully, Martin sighed up into him.

Tim pulled away again, rubbing his hands over Martin’s chest. He was finally here, right in front of him, right where he wanted him to be, and it was better than he ever could have imagined. He traced his fingers slowly up and down, admiring the outline of every muscle, every soft spot. He felt his broad shoulders, his soft stomach, his thighs - everything he could reach. He just wanted to observe how Martin felt under his touch, how Martin would sigh or whimper or gasp when he touched certain spots. He just wanted to know every single thing about Martin, and he didn’t want a single inch to go unnoted.

“Wait here,” Tim said after a second. He pulled away, which made both of the men sigh at the loss of friction, but Tim came back from his bedroom just a few moments later, holding a small bottle of lube and a condom. He put it down on a side table.

“I have a feeling we’re gonna need those,” he said, chuckling.

Martin smiled back, his eyes glossed over in lust. “Probably.” Tim’s eyes glanced down to Martin’s spread thighs, to the bulge forming there - fuck. Okay, yeah. They probably would need some lube.

That image was enough to push Tim over the edge. His pants were getting uncomfortably tight, and he needed a release from the pressure - he undid his pants, watching intently as Martin followed suit. He pulled his pants down to his ankles and kicked them off, practically drooling as he saw Martin slowly pull his own down around his thighs.

He walked up to him again, straddling his hips. He placed a few tentative fingers on Martin’s cock, the groan coming from Martin making a wave of heat ripple through him as he slowly closed his fingers around Martin and pumped up and down, once, twice -

“Mm,” Martin sighed, placing his hand on Tim’s wrist. “That’s good, really good, but I don’t want to cum yet, can I go inside you?”

Tim’s dick twitched at the thought.

“Fuck. Please.”

Martin smiled, gently pushing Tim off of him. He reached around to the side table, opening the condom and carefully rolling it on. He grabbed the bottle of lube and looked up at the now standing Tim.

“Do you want to ride me, or do you want to be on top?”

Tim imagined Martin over him, completely trapping him in as he fucked him, his muscles and his hair and-

“You on top, fuck, please-”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Martin grinned like a hyena, quickly standing up and carefully pushing Tim down on the couch. Tim just stared up at Martin while he lubed himself up, lining himself at Tim’s entrance.

“You ready or you need a second?”

“No, I’m ready, fuck, Martin, please-”

Martin slowly pushed into Tim, and Tim could swear he saw stars.

Martin stayed there for a moment, waiting for Tim to adjust, before Tim ground his back onto Martin’s cock with a moan, and Martin began to slowly move in and out of him. Tim stared at Martin, completely transfixed at his size, how much he covered him, how much he was stretching him, how pretty he looked with his cheeks pink and lips parted-

“Fuck,” Tim whined, trying to fuck himself back onto Martin’s dick. “Faster, please- hah,” Tim trailed off into a high whine as Martin sped up the pace of his hips, small whimpers coming from the man on top of him.

“Faster, faster, I can handle it- fuck!”

Martin sped up even more, going at a pace that hurt just a bit, but a good kind of hurt; the kind where he knew he was being stretched just a bit too wide and being handled just a bit too roughly but he was still safe and he trusted Martin and he felt so so good in him-

Martin wrapped his soft hand around Tim’s cock and pumped once before Tim came with a cry, clawing into Martin’s back.

Martin kept moving his hips, although a bit slower. “Can I keep going or should I pull out?” he asked, his voice low and raspy. Tim shuddered at the sound.

“Keep going’, it’s okay,'' Tim whimpered, too overstimulated and tired to come up with a hotter answer. Martin kept pumping into him before his whines grew louder and more desperate, and he came with Tim’s name on his lips.

With his eyes closed, Tim barely even noticed as Martin pulled out and got the two of them cleaned up, shivering at the feeling of a warm washcloth on his stomach. Martin handed him his clothes, folded right side in again, and smiled.

“That was… good,” Martin said, smiling.

“Yeah,” Tim replied, his smile wide. “Fuckin’ good.”

“I should get going,” Martin said-

“You can stay here if you want. There’s no one else in my bed tonight but you, promise,” Tim said with a chuckle.

Something seemed to click behind Martin’s eyes. “Alright,” he said, with a sincere smile.

They held hands on the way to the bedroom, and passed out in each other's arms.


End file.
